


Seasons

by starrygale



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Eventual Smut, F/M, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, M/M, Slow Burn, i'll add more tags later idk, implied shallura, lotor might show up in a chapter idk, probably a coffee shop involved ngl, the story progresses with the seasons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 06:06:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11351430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrygale/pseuds/starrygale
Summary: University is a time meant for change, right? Change happened to be the last thing on Keith Kogane's (gay) agenda. He could care less about growing or cutting his hair, changing or dropping classes, or even finding a new daily meal that isn't instant noodles, honestly. All he wants are answers, and after an exchange trip to his home country, South Korea, doesn't answer any of the mysteries behind his family's past, he feels hopeless. The hopeless doesn't last long once he meets tall, dark, and dorky Lance McClain and lets the seasons change his mind.





	1. summer begins

**Author's Note:**

> "but these are the days we dream about when the sunlight paints us gold"

The feeling of dense, coiled springs perched beneath his spine seemed to be the only thing anchoring him to life right now. The rest of the mattress (which consisted of a very lacking cotton spread) didn't seem relevant compared to the discomfort pressing into his back. His eyes were closed, but he felt like he didn't need for them to be opened to see the fat droplets of rain rolling down his apartment's tiny window. Summer in the states had just rolled in, and it seemed to be greeting him with a big ole " _Hi, I heard that your self-discovery trip to South Korea tanked, care for some depressing weather?"_  

Keith felt humiliated, and on top of that, he felt weird about the fact that he was even embarrassed in the first place. He really didn't have any friends to tell about the trip in the first place, so it's not like any outsiders were judging him. The only person who knew about it was Shiro, an RA who'd befriended him during his short-lived stay in the Garrison dorms. Turns out, having to live with a stranger and their irregular schedule stressed Keith out more than was probably humanly possible. Thus, here he was living in an apartment exactly .5 miles away from Voltron University. 

 

Rather melodramatically, Keith draped his arm over his eyes, his skin meeting the clammy dampness of his forehead. His AC was off for the summer, because it turns out that putting yourself through college  _and_ renting out an apartment isn't actually that cheap. His phone started to vibrate on the night stand adjacent to him, incessantly buzzing and threatening to throw itself off the edge of his dresser and into some tiny corner he couldn't reach if he didn't get up and answer it. He sighed and cracked open an eyelid, already knowing who was on the other end of the line. 

 

 _"What."_  

" _Keith, you're depressed."_

_"Thanks, Shiro, that's really what I needed to hear right now."_

_"I mean it! You've been back for what, 3 weeks now, and I don't think I've seen you outside of your apartment once. Have you even been eating?"_

Keith guiltily glanced at his open cupboard door. His self-proclaimed "lifetime supply" of instant noodles had dwindled down to just 3 remaining packages.

_"... I'm managing."_

Shiro sighed on the other end of the line, " _Keith, you knew going into the trip that it was entirely possible to come back without answers. It's understandable to be disappointed, but there comes a point when you need to pick yourself back up and keep on keeping on."_

The beginning of Shiro's advice stung just a little, but the honesty behind his words settled heavily on top of Keith's chest. He took a shallow breath, " _Yeah, I know. I just have no reason to leave my apartment. I finished up all of my classes before I left, and I don't take any summer ones. You of all people should also know that I have 0 friends to interact with. And before you can cut me off, yes I know that having no friends is a choice that I've made, and yes, I am okay with it."_

 _"You sure about that?"_ Shiro chuckled lightheartedly before continuing, " _But in all seriousness, I think it's time to get out and do something. Are you free this afternoon? If you meet me at the Lion Palace I can fill you in on all the misadventures I've dealt with in the dorms while you were gone."_

Keith gave him radio silence on the other end of the line.

" _Keith."_

_"...What time?"_

_"Let's do 3:30. I'll see you there!"_

 

The phone call ended with a click, and Keith flopped back down onto the bed. He glanced at the clock hanging above his wall, and cursed under his breath. Shiro, the clever bastard, had given him exactly 30 minutes to book it out of his apartment and meet him on time. Luckily for Keith though, having a wardrobe that contains exactly 2 simplistic outfits doesn't leave much room for decision. 

* * *

"I actually hate you." Keith huffed as he plopped down on one of the cafe's wooden chairs across from Shiro.

"Black coffee with no cream and 2 sugars?" Shiro ignored Keith's insolent moodiness and dove right into conversation.

"Yeah, you?" 

"I tried something different today. The summer special is an iced caramel macchiato with just the _teeniest_ hint of lavender in it."

"Are you sure you're not the gay one in this friendship?" Keith teased.

"I'm a grown man, Keith, and I know what I love: fun coffee orders and vaginas."

"Okay, okay, you got me. End of that conversation. Go on and tell me your stories." 

Shiro grinned and dove in. Keith had to admit that his favorite part of their unlikely friendship was the fact that Keith was all ears when wanted to be, and if the rare occasion of him wanting to express and admit to actual human feelings ever occurred, then Shiro was all ears for him. His subconscious had suggested going for Shiro before, but the other man's utter heterosexualness and ultimate brotherly-ness turned him off faster than a girl admitting her undying love for him. 

"So, like 2 weeks before you got back, I heard loud music coming from room 207, right? I left it for a few minutes, thinking that whoever was in there would realize that they're making other people go deaf, but it still didn't stop. I walked over and knocked on the door, and the music stopped before the dude opened the door. When he finally did, it was Lance McClain, ultimate "lady slayer" of the floor, hugging a pillow to his chest and looking at me with what I can only describe as sad puppy eyes. I asked him if he wanted to talk about whatever it was that was bothering him, and I ended up comforting him in his room for 2 hours before he finally stopped crying! Turns out his girl dumped him. Lance is a sweet kid, so it was obviously sad, but also simultaneously amusing at the same time. I feel bad now for laughing about it now that I think of it." Shiro finished his story, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. 

"See, Shiro, THAT is why I don't mess with 'The Straights.' That's too much emotion for me."

"I dunno, Keith, I have a feeling that you'd get along with the guy."

"Are you kidding me? After the way you just described him? No way." 

Shiro just shot him one of his annoyingly-brilliant smiles in return and pulled out his phone. Keith huffed and sipped his coffee while glancing around the rest of the cafe. The Lion's Palace was a small joint with two large, gaping windows in the front of the store and a clear-paned side entrance that filled the place with natural light. There were two comfy booth seats up by the two main windows, and the rest of the shop was filled with tiny, dark wooden tables that could seat about 3 people. Keith looked to the counter, eyes lazily scanning over the menu and displayed bake goods before they fell on the person in line. He stood to the side of the counter, rapidly tapping his foot to some silent beat and swiping away on his phone at what looked to be Pokemon Go.

Keith's first thought was " _Seriously? People still play that game?"_

The second one was the realization that " _Shit, he's hot."_

Bashfully drinking in the other boy's features, the first thing that Keith noticed was his height. He was tall, and lankily so. His shoulders were broad like a swimmer's, Keith observed as the other boy's shoulder blades jutted out against the smooth, caramel skin exposed by his tank top. His legs were long and slender, but there was no denying the subtle shift of defined muscles as he tapped his foot against the wooden floor. Moving up higher, Keith saw wind-ruffled brown hair, sharp cheekbones, and downcast blue eyes that shockingly contrasted the rest of his dark exterior. Before Keith could attempt to nonchalantly ask Shiro who the mystery boy was, the barista slid his coffee across the counter and bid him a farewell. The boy started to walk towards the exit. 

Before he could leave, though, he had to pass their table. On his way out, he turned and glanced over his shoulder.

"Shiro, didn't see you there, 'sup?" His eyes then drifted over to Keith and looked him up and down, "You too, dude, 'sup?"

Shiro offered a nod and a friendly wave at the boy, and Keith silently gaped like a fish out of water.

"Keith?"

"Shiro,  _who was that?_ "

"Oh, that was Lance McClain."

"Wait, like the guy from that cringey sob story you just told?"

"Yeah, why?"

"FUCK."

Shiro just smiled knowingly. 

 

 


	2. summer lovin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "the summer's here, you want to feel somebody"

Two weeks had passed since Keith's meet-up with Shiro, and he could say with 100% confidence that he'd had 0 human interaction since. He'd taken the time to run to the grocery store and pick up some more noodles and a 12-pack of Coke, and he'd even hit the gym a few times. 

 

The majority of his time was spent alone in his apartment, though, and that unfortunately left him with a lot of time for thinking. Keith tried not to think too much. Sure, he had thoughts, obviously, but he tried to not really  _think_. Thinking opened up doors that he'd rather keep shut. No matter how hard he tried, he always found questions drifting out from under the cracks of the doors he'd tried to close. 

 

" _I dunno, Keith, I have a feeling that you'd get along with the guy"_

 

His friend's words echoed in his head. What exactly did Shiro mean by that? Didn't he call Lance "lady-slayer" or some other ridiculous thing along those lines? He hated to admit this to himself, but he was lonely. It was as plain and simple as that. Keith had exactly 1 kiss to his name, and it was more of clacking teeth than anything. Plus the guy wasn't even gay in the end. Figures. Keith guessed that he was just more of a test trial rather than actual "official gay boyfriend" material. It sucked, like  _really_ sucked, but it was fine. Some people just aren't meant to find other people. Right? 

 

He got up from his cheap Ikea futon and padded over to the bathroom, his fuzzy socks softly shuffling against the cool tiled floor. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, staring into his overly-neglected appearance. His hair consisted of thick black waves that threatened to droop over his right eye if he didn't get it cut soon. His complexion was clear, as it usually was, but his skin tone was dull and threatening to loom towards lifeless. His eyes, a stormy indigo complexion, popped against his pale features thanks to the sunken bags beneath them. Then, to top it all off, his lips were chapped. To make a long story short, Keith looked as shitty as he felt. 

 

" _God, why didn't Shiro say anything to me? Have I really been going out in public looking like this the whole time?"_ Keith took one last lingering look at his shabby appearance before turning around to head back to the futon. Halfway through his trip, another thought struck him, " _Is this why that boy looked at me?"_

 

It had to be. 

 

Why else would someone as good looking as him even spare Keith a glance?  _Lance, his name is Lance._ Keith's subconscious reminded him, sending a little ache through his heart. That's right, he had said hi to Shiro and then turned to Keith out of politeness. It was nothing more than a greeting, and an extremely insignificant one at that. Keith shook his head. That was enough thinking for today. He had to get his head out of his ass long enough to actually enjoy the rest of his day. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and lazily began scrolling through his neglected notifications. They mostly consisted of unread emails and a couple of texts from Shiro. There was one email from only 2 days ago that caught his eyes. The subject read "!!!PARTY!!!!" It was pretty hard to ignore, so Keith opened it. To his surprise, it included every single person living in the Garrison dorms. He guessed that his name had never been taken off the contact list since he'd moved out. Usually, Shiro sent out mass emails like this to inform his underclassmen about building updates or signup deadlines, but this one sure didn't look like it was from him. 

 

**!!!PARTY!!!**

_what's up dudes of Garrison??? school is out, so that means that the parties are IN!!!  be there or be square: delta sig frat 1034 altea ave sat 6/13/17 8:00-whenever ;)_

 

Keith blinked a few times after reading the message. Whoever had written it was a) WAY too into exclamation points and questions marks, and b) terrible with grammar. Was this for real? He swiped down on his screen to check the date. Of course, today was Saturday, June 13th. That meant the party was...tonight. 

 

Lazily, his subconscious suggested, " _Free alcohol and a potential run-in with Lance? What could go wrong?"_  

 

Keith thought it over.

* * *

 

Exactly 5 hours later, Keith's face was buried in his phone screen as he walked down cracked pavement and inspected the Google Maps path he was headed down. He repeated the address, 1034 Altea Ave, over and over again in his head like a mantra. Repeating it made the fact that he was  _actually_ making an appearance at a social event seem more real to him. Right now, his head was clouded and his thoughts were jumbled, and that was without the influence of alcohol. It was going to be a long night. He nearly tripped over his own two feet when the toe of his boots caught under a particularly deep crack in the sidewalk. He caught himself and looked up from his phone, finding himself to be deep in a frat neighborhood. About 100 feet away, he saw toilet paper wound in tree branches and heard a deep, throbbing bass bouncing off the walls of other fraternities. The sun was just melting down to a golden drizzle across the sky, and the party already seemed to be approaching wild. His stomach betrayed his attempt at a collective exterior, twisting itself into knots and causing a grimace to cross his face. As if on autopilot, his feet kept walking. Upon closer inspection, the party frat, Delta Sig, was a 3 story house with a rickety, unpainted front porch, chipping pale yellow paint, and different colored Christmas lights hanging from the each floor's windows. In the window of the second floor, a sign with " _FUCK CHRISTMAS!"_ was scribbled in sharpie with a poorly drawn dreidel drawn in the corner. There was already a cluster of male and female students mingling on the porch, and 5 red solo cups littered the front lawn. Keith hastily made his way up the front lawn and through the entrance, avoiding eye contact with the group of people whose names he didn't know. 

 

The interior was dark, but there were at least a dozen tiny little light sources. One coffee table boasted a mini-rotating disco ball reflecting circles of rainbow light onto the wall, the kitchen counter hosted a purple lava lamp, and strings of fairy lights were loosely taped to hang vertically down the walls. Chatter and laughter reverberated off the walls, the smell of spilled beer hung on the couches, and remains of blown smoke made the whole place glow hazily. Keith decided that it felt more like a dream than an actual party. Still avoiding the clusters of people that seemed to linger in every corner, he made his way to the kitchen and scanned over the different selections of liquors and sodas.

 

"Pick your poison." A voice spoke from the other end of the kitchen, and Keith jumped in surprise. In his haste to avoid the crowds, he hadn't looked up to notice that he wasn't alone in kitchen. A petite person was resting their back against the silver refrigerator. They had bushy caramel locks that hung in a frizzy halo against their slender face, which was adorned with an over-sized pair of circle-shaped glasses. Their eyes were wide and brown, but sharp enough to let Keith know that he was interacting with no idiot. They only seemed to be about 5'0", and their slender body wore a cropped tie-dye shirt with a long-sleeved mesh shirt underneath, high-waisted jeans, and plain Doc Martins. 

 

"Aren't you underage?" Keith asked confusedly after judging the other's appearance. 

 

"Aren't you?"

 

Keith took a minute to mill their answer over. "Well, yeah..."

 

" See, I told you. I'm 18, and from the looks of you, you only seem like you're a year older. My name's Katie, but I'd prefer it if you called me Pidge. My pronouns are they/them. What can I get for you?" Pidge slid off of their leaning spot and strode over to stand before the plethora of decision-inhibiting beverages. 

 

Keith cocked a brow. "Are you the bartender or something?"

 

"The unofficial one of this party, yeah. No one's getting date-raped on my watch."

 

"Huh, that's actually pretty sweet. Since you're offering, I'll take a Coke and rum."

 

"Well aren't you boring?" Pidge teased him, sticking out their tongue.

 

Keith flustered, not knowing what to make of the gesture, "I-I'm gay!" He stuttered, his words coming out rather defensively.

 

"Okay? I'm ace, good to know? Why are you sharing this with me?" Pidge seemed to be sizing him up as they poured his soda into a solo cup. 

 

"I don't really know... I don't come to parties often." Keith offered the information shyly, rubbing the back of his head. 

 

Pidge huffed and handed him his drink after adding two shots worth of Jack Daniels into the cup. "No kidding. Why don't we sit down and get to know each other a little bit so you feel more comfortable?" They gestured over to the tiny kitchen table. Keith nodded.

 

After about 20 minutes, Keith found out that he and Pidge were both studying to become engineers. While Keith was studying aerospace engineering, Pidge was studying systems engineering. Both of them had rewatched the entire X-Files series about 3 times, and it turned out the Pidge's older brother, Matt, is childhood friends with Shiro. Small world, huh?

 

Keith found himself laughing by the end of the conversation. "Thanks for this," he paused, "I actually do feel a lot more comfortable now."

 

Pidge smiled. "See, what did I tell you? It's no problem at all. You just looked a little lonely and I haven't seen you around before. So, welcome to Delta Sig! Have you met Lance?"

 

Keith's heart leapt in his throat. "L-Lance? No? Who's that?"

 

If Pidge had sensed anything awkward in his response, they didn't show it. "He's the one who arranged this whole shindig, didn't you know?"

 

"Wait, he was the one who figured out how to hack into the email system and override Shiro?"

 

Pidge scoffed. "Of course not, I was the one who got into the system and let him write the email. I'm a systems engineer, remember? Computers and online systems are sorta my thing." They puffed out their chest proudly after describing their hack job. 

 

"Does Shiro know about this?

 

"Oh, god no. He'd kill us if he found out. Good thing is that he's been awful with technology since he was a teen, and I don't think he's gotten any better as an adult, honestly. The guy just upgraded from a flip phone like, 5 years ago. Besides, even if he did find out, I could always just throw Lance-" Pidge was interrupted mid-sentence by an overly-loud voice. 

 

"Hey," the voice yelled over the music blasting from the other room, "Did I hear my name?"

 

"Only a self-conceited loser like you would be able to hear their own name from across the room with all this music, Lance!" Pidge yelled over to him.

 

Keith turned around in his chair to face the source of the voice. Sure enough, Lance stood before him, tall, hot, and wearing yet another bro-tank. Keith's eyes were drawn to his lips, which were tugged down in a mock frown. 

 

"Aw, Pidge, why do you always have to be so mean to me??? Come on, get that Xbox controller out of your ass and join the party people!" He stumbled a bit over his words, and he was close enough to Keith for him to smell the alcohol sticking to his lanky body. 

 

"I will never stop, especially if you keep saying things like that. Have you met Keith?" Pidge gestured to Keith, who stuck up a leather-clad hand up in a small wave.

 

"Hey, you're that guy from the cafe with Shiro, right? Did you get a haircut or something?"

 

Keith's hands flew up to touch his hair, which he had indeed gotten cut less than an hour after his gross appearance observation. How had Lance noticed something as small as that?

 

"Um, yeah. I did."  _Great job Keith, you sure are the conversational avalanche._

 

"Cool. You have way less of a mullet now. I mean, you're still rockin' a minor one, but not one as killer as before." Lance smiled wickedly at him, sneaking in a small wink. Keith just gaped at him. Had that really just come out of his mouth?

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"Your mullet. It's gotten smaller. I'm sure that ladies will love you now!" Lance shot him two finger guns and a wolfy grin. 

 

Pidge stared at Keith, clearly holding in laughter as he gaped at Lance. Lance stood before him, arms crossed in satisfaction as Keith's brain tried to process a response. He normally would have been much quicker, but the shots were starting to kick in and he was beginning to feel sluggish. 

 

"I..I.. fuck you, Lance!" Keith fumed at him, abruptly standing up and storming out of the kitchen. He heard Lance's voice call out in confusion and Pidge's cackling laughter, but he could have cared less. Turns out being hot doesn't stop a guy from being a douche. He looked around the house to find another quiet area, and found that going upstairs seemed to be the only other option. The second floor's rooms were filled with closed doors and lingering haze from smoked joints, so he continued up to the third floor. There were only 4 bedrooms, and 1 of them was locked with a sock on the door handle. Shuddering, Keith picked the farthest room from that one and found it to have a balcony attached to it. He opened the sliding glass door and stepped out, facing the view of the backyard. It was pretty basic, with a scattering of trees, lazily strewn lawn chairs, and a group of people huddled around a bong. He took a deep breath and leaned against the railing. The sun had set by now, casting a navy glow over the neighborhood.  _What did you expect, honestly?_ Keith thought to himself, wringing his hands together.  _You knew there was about a 10% chance that he may not be straight, and now you know that he's a douche who definitely does not find you attractive. Are you happy that you came?_ He knit his brows together in frustration, angry at himself for being dumb enough to show up to a party only to get embarrassed by a guy he'd met twice and found attractive. His thoughts were interrupted when he noticed the glint of a glass bottle poorly hidden away on the corner of the balcony. It was Malibu, so nothing great, but Keith was in the mood to get drunk enough to shake off his shame. He broke the seal and threw his head back, letting the liquid burn down his throat. He got about a quarter way through the bottle before being interrupted. 

 

"Woah, dude, you planning on drinking all of my Malibu?" Of course, Lance had decided to make an appearance, closing the sliding door behind him and leaving the two of them alone on the balcony. 

 

"Can I help you?" Keith tried to sound as icy as possible.

 

Lance threw his hands up in defense. "Hey, I was just kidding around. Feel free to, uh, drink responsibly." Keith ignored him and stonily looked in the opposite direction. 

 

"...Was it something I said?" Lance made another attempt to continue the conversation. 

 

"What do you think??" Keith demanded, his anger starting to bubble up again.

 

"Was it the mullet thing? Because, like, you do have one, but it doesn't look bad! Especially now, I think you look cut-I mean, better, with it shorter anyways."

 

Keith turned to face him, "Were you about the say 'cuter?'"

 

The tips of Lance's ears reddened, complimenting his already alcohol-flushed face. "No! Yes! Maybe...? I-Interpret it as you want, my dude."

 

Keith rolled his eyes. "I hate straight fuckers like you when you're drunk. It's just, like, rude to gay people." He mumbled, his drunk words sounding ridiculous to the remaining rationality in his brain. 

 

"I'm not-" Lance started, but Keith didn't give him a chance to finish.

 

"No, I don't even want to hear it. M'not just someone to experiment with, even if you're just trying to fuck around with me..."

 

Lance just stared at him. His eyes revealed a little bit of hurt, but the look was soon washed over by a look of concern. "Hey Keith, buddy, you alright?"

 

"The fuck do you care?" 

 

"You just look a little green, do you need me to show you to the bathroom so you can blow ch-" Lance's suspicions were met when Keith leaned further over the edge of the balcony and emptied the contents of his stomach into the backyard. His vomit was met with choruses of "Gross!" and "Duuude" from the stoner squad below. When Keith's back stopped rising and falling from his heaving, Lance awkwardly moved a little closer. 

 

"Um, do you want me to call you an Uber?" 

 

Keith shook his head. "Didn't bring any m-money. I'll walk."

 

"Are you kidding me? I can totally just pay for you!"

 

"I don't want to have to owe you anything. I'm fine to walk. I don't live that far."

 

"Wow, harsh. Well, since you're so big and tough, at least let me walk with you so you can get home alright." Keith just stared at him and started to head back into the house.

 

"Welp, I guess that means we're going."

* * *

The two boys walked down the street in silence, Keith miserably dragging his feet and Lance awkwardly trailing 2 steps behind. Unbeknownst to Keith, Lance was silently observing his appearance, eyes raking up and down his ripped black jeans and loose Eagles tee. Tiny black tufts of hair curled loosely against the back of his neck. Lance decided to make another attempt at conversation. 

 

"Sooo, the Eagles, huh? You like Hotel California?" Keith turned back and looked at him, the streetlights illuminating his face with a lazy yellow glow. 

 

"Are you looking at my shirt?"

 

"I'm just trying to talk! I'm not really much for silence."

 

"Well, you should try to learn a little more about that." Lance deflated a little. Keith must have seen it, so he continued on, "Sorry... I'm just more quiet than you, I guess. I'm also drunk and just puked my guts out into the backyard of a frat full of people I don't really know. I don't feel great."

 

"Yeah... I'm really sorry about that. And the fact that I was a jerk earlier! I guess sometimes my jokes don't come across as jokes, huh?"

 

Keith let out a dry laugh. "You've got that right." He turned around and pointed forwards. "My building is that one right ahead. You can go now if you want to."

 

"Nah, I've come this far, haven't I?" Lance laughed awkwardly, still trailing behind Keith.

 

"You know, you don't have to walk 5,000 feet behind me. You can be a normal person and walk next to me. You've annoyed the living shit out of me tonight, but I guess since you walked home with me you're kind of okay." Lance grinned and jogged up next to him. The two finished the walk to the building in a somewhat comfortable silence. Just as Keith was pulling the door to the building open, Lance began to speak.

 

"SO you go to the university, right?" He blurted loudly with little-to-no volume control.

 

"Yeah... how else do you think I got the invite to the party?"

 

"Oh, hah, I guess you're right. How come I've never seen you around then?"

 

"I'm in the engineering building, so I'm all the way on the south side of campus. Great hole-in-the-wall restaurants and way less people than central campus, so I like it."

 

"Ah, that makes sense. I'm actually a photography student so I'm on central campus. I'm all about the people so... I guess it works."

 

Keith gave him a slight nod. "Makes sense. Well, speaking of people, you should probably get back to yours. It is your party after all. If you excuse me, I'm going to be going to bed and preparing to nurse my massive hangover tomorrow morning. It was nice to officially meet you even if you did make fun of my hair. Thanks for walking, I'll see you around." 

 

"Do you want my phone number?"

 

Keith's brows flew up to his hairline, but he quickly composed himself. "Why, do you want to make fun of my hair some more?"

 

"N-no! I just thought it'd be fun to, y'know, talk or something? I don't know, I feel bad for being a jerk!"

 

"So you want to give me your phone number because you feel bad for me?"

 

"No! Just, never mind, I'll see you around..." Lance was stopped by Keith extending a glowing screen towards him.

 

"Here." Lance offered him a soft little smile and created a new contact for himself before handing the phone back to Keith. Keith pocketed it and glanced over his shoulder before heading in the building. 

 

"Goodnight, Lance."

 

"Night, Keith."

 


End file.
